


Like Lovers Do

by gloatingraccoon



Series: Paid In Full [10]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Forgiveness, Massage, Polyamory, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Reconciliation, Smut, Tentabulges, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:30:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloatingraccoon/pseuds/gloatingraccoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are Eridan Ampora and you no longer spend all day hiding in your room or hoping to disappear. Now you have friends you can call up to organize expeditions in the wilderness - friends who actually answer when you do. Now you have a kismesis: Sollux Captor, the insufferable prick that rode you to Skaia and back for most of your weekend out. Now you have a matesprit: Feferi Peixes, the woman you’ve wanted in that role since before you even knew it existed.</p><p>Things are definitely changing. It doesn't mean they're easy. But as you fall asleep with her in your arms, beautiful, naked and exhausted, for the first time you feel complete and ready to face what's ahead, whatever that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. > Eridan: fail to see the obvious (again).

**> Eridan: accelerate.**

Things are changing. There’s no mistaking it. You no longer spend all day hiding in your room or hoping to disappear.

Now you actually call up Vriska to organize expeditions into the wilderness, and she answers. Now you actually make jokes with Aradia, and not even racist or demeaning ones. Now you have a kismesis: Sollux Captor, the insufferable prick that rode you to Skaia and back for most of your weekend out, and even got dealt the return treatment. Now you have a matesprit: Feferi Peixes, the woman you’ve wanted in that role since before you even knew it existed.

Things are definitely changing. It doesn’t mean they’re easy.

For one thing, your weekend out left you full of scratches and bruises that are only partially due to your vigorous kismessitude. You’re much more experienced than Sollux on being out in the wild, but this environment is unfamiliar and it’s been a long while since last time you’ve been camping. Which means you hardly slept at all in your uncomfortable tent. You can tell Sollux is in a bad shape as well, but apparently he takes sleep deprivation much better than you.

Also you are what, over eight sweeps now? You’ve grown up and now you have to face the uncomfortable truth that finally filling your quadrants doesn’t magically make your issues evaporate. With all your high and mighty facade, you’re still insecure as fuck. Sollux plucked some pine needles from your hair, and you can very well imagine the circumstances in which they got stuck there - oh gog the things that poor tree had to see -, and you realize it’s absurd to assume that the girls wouldn’t know what you and Sollux are up to already, but it still made you blush furiously and stammer together some ridiculous excuse of an explanation other than “sloppy hatefuck under a tree”. You still can’t admit your relationship with Sollux openly, and you’re still extremely awkward around Feferi, terrified that any wrong movement might screw everything up. Each time she kisses you, hell each time she simply touches you or smiles at you, for that matter, you stiffen and space out, racking your brains over the million ways you could ruin this.

**> Eridan: cut the whining for once in your life and do something.**

See? That was some quality spacing out right there. You were rubbing your poor aching neck and Fef asked you something, and then bam! You spaced out big time and you don’t even remember what she said. You clear your throat, trying to look nonchalant and failing spectacularly, which is your main act by now in this house, really.

“Sorry Fef, you were sayin’?”

She blinks at you in surprise and flashes you an encouraging smile. You’ll never understand why she wanted you back of all people, really.

“I asked if you’re ok, sealy. You look in pain.”

You clear up your throat again. Oh yes, Eridan Ampora, one real smooth player. Go ahead, make her worry. Good job. Loser.

“Uh, no. Don’t worry. I’m just not used to sleepin’ out anymore is all,” you say, and then you twist your neck to pop it and relax the muscles because you want to show you’re just that badass, and then OH SHIT.

**> Eridan: OH SHIT THE PAIN.**

Suddenly as you move everything in your neck goes stiff and cold and painful, and you hiss, gritting your teeth.

“Fuck. Oh fuck,” you mutter, and you wish you didn’t, but you can’t help it. You rub at the base of your neck, and you have the time to feel the unnatural stiffness under your skin before Feferi moves at your back and bats your hand away.

“Let me see that,” she says, cold nimble fingers slipping under your scarf to brush at the damage. “Aw, Eri. I think you’ve strained it.”

“Fuckin’ great,” you say. “Thanks a lot, Sol,” you add as venomously as you can manage to get the insufferable prick’s attention; he’s currently busy configuring a new game on the living room tv, or something. Sollux snickers but does not turn to you.

“Nah, you’re doing great all by yourself, asshole.”

That guy. You never know if you want to break his neck or to fuck his brains out.

“Now you stop that,” Feferi says, still examining your neck. The pain has numbed a bit, but half of your back feels stiff and unresponsive. “Yeah, it doesn't look good. I think I have just what you need though. Come upstairs.”

Feferi starts to go up the stairs, and you turn to her as much as you can manage with your current back stiffness.

“Upstairs? What? Why?” you ask with what is probably the dumbest perplexed expression you can manage.

Feferi stops halfway and gestures for you to follow her.

“Because you have to lie down. Come on!”

You gulp and follow her, accurately avoiding turning to Sollux as you hear him snicker. You have to lie down. What. The. Fuck.

Feferi leads you to her room. You hadn’t seen her room yet but it’s all but surprising to you. Books, chests, sea wildlife stickers, clamshells and fucking pastels everywhere. She closes the door behind you and you’re a little startled when she pops her knuckles.

“Ok, let’s kick your neck back into shape!” she exclaims with a huge grin. Did she always have that many fangs? Jegus. She waves her arm with a tinkling of bangles. “Bed, Eri.”

“Uh. Ok,” you mumble, and sit on her bed as if you were afraid to either break it or your neck. The combination of Feferi, bed and lying down sort of makes your think pan go places it probably shouldn’t visit right now: the kind of places it eagerly visited during your puberty (a notoriously difficult time), only instead of a bed there was a pailing pile, which was this mysterious piece of furniture for grownups that you only heard tales of, and actually imagined sort of similar to a bed now that you think about it, and yeah you shouldn’t probably think about it now, really.

**> Eridan: don’t space out.**

Damn. Too late.

Luckily Feferi is busy chattering away cheerfully while rummaging around in one of her chests and hopefully she didn’t notice your terrible blush. Although she shouldn’t really bend over like that while doing so. And you shouldn’t really ogle at her butt like that while she does so, for that matter, even if it’s really a gorgeous butt, toned and perky and so well defined under the folds of her skirt, so much that her underwear must be either really flimsy or highly minimalistic or outright nonexistent. Thinking about her underwear is probably not a good idea either. You tear your eyes away and concentrate on something else in the room. Anything else. Like her pink tablet computer on her bedstand. Look, it’s pink and well designed and sickeningly cute! How surprising.

“...and anyway Aradia really helped me that time, so I asked her to teach me. All you need is a comfortable place, some oil and a lot of patience,” Feferi says, closing the chest and joining you on the bed, with a little bottle in hand. Aradia taught her what? Is that oil in that bottle? What the fuck is she talking about? You have no idea. You barely know why you’re here. “She says I’m even better than her now, but I don’t believe her! She’s just a sweetie. Now, Eri, off with this.”

She tugs at your scarf, and you take it off with jerky movements, since your shoulders aren’t doing too well either, dropping it on her bedstand. She gives you a puzzled look, frowning.

“Um. Eri, I have to give you a rub. I don’t think I can do a good job of it if you don’t take off your shirt too.”

Oh.

Oh.

Shit.

It was kinda obvious what she was going to do, actually, now that you think about it. Your think pan really isn’t available today. There is no need to blush furiously like you’re surely doing, really: you’ve grown up together and seen each other naked quite a few times. It’s just been a long while since the last time. You try to look nonchalant anyway as you turn stiffly to give your back to her, and try to remove your shirt.

Try being the keyword. Your back seems to be almost as messed up as your think pan.

“Here, let me help,” she says, and as she pulls at the hem of your shirt, you slowly lift your arms up and let her remove it. That’s when you distinctly hear her breathe out, as in surprise.

“Oh.”

**> Eridan: fail to see the obvious (again).**

That’s one of those things you're pretty unbeatable at, so yeah, you fail to see it completely, no worries. You’ve already turned your back to her and you have no idea what surprised her, but you doubt it’s your stunning swimmer physique: even you are not that vain, and this is nothing she hasn’t seen before. Maybe the damage in your neck looks even worse than how it feels?

“What is it? Is it swellin’?” you ask her, not daring to touch your neck to make sure or turn towards her.

“Um, no!” she replies cheerfully. Almost too cheerfully, and there’s a tiny shiver in her voice. “No, I just... remembered somefin. Now just lie down and relax.”

**> Eridan: do as the fish princess says.**

Her hands brush at your shoulders and you comply, pulling your legs up on the bed and lying down on your belly, with your head on crossed arms on the pillow. You have the nagging feeling that she was about to say something else, or that she didn’t feel like sharing with you whatever made her go “oh” anyway, but those doubts quickly melt away as a few drops of oil land between your shoulder blades, making you shiver all over.

“Shorey,” she says with a giggle. “It must be cold.”

“Just a bit,” you mumble, and next thing you know, her hands are on you, and you take a nice serving of shut the hell up. Her dainty, cold fingers dip into the oil spot on your skin and slowly spread it all over your neck, your shoulders and your back, carefully following every curve and crease of your muscles. Then she goes back up, her hands now warmed up by your higher temperature, and her thumbs start slowly tracing circles over your neck. The pain starts to subside, but she stops suddenly, stiffening next to you.

“I can’t do it like this. I have to...” she says, her words slipping with her train of thought.

You feel the weight in the bed shift, and sneaking a glance behind as much as you can with your stiff neck, you realize she’s climbing on the bed as well. Then she carefully lays herself down again, and it takes you a moment to realize she’s sitting on your hips now, straddling you, her bare knees brushing your sides. But when you do. Ooh boy. You can’t help but gulp and shiver again, but it’s a very different kind of shiver now. She likely notices your reaction, because she tenses again.

“I’m shorey Eri, did I hurt you? Or am I too heavy? It’s just I can’t do a good job from the side.”

You gulp again. There was a time when letting her think she was hurting you was the ideal way to wall her out when you were uneasy, but that was a long time ago, and you don’t want to do that now. The last thing you want is to push her away or outright hurt her - even if it is pretty embarrassing in your shoes.

“No, it’s ok,” you finally answer. “You just took me by surprise is all.”

“Ok then,” she says. “Now just try to relax, and please tell me if it hurts or I get something wrong.”

You do as she says. You just can’t help it. It’s clear that she knows very well what she’s doing, and as she expertly kneads your muscles, spontaneously you close your eyes and go limp under her touch. The scent of the oil reminds you of salt and wild flowers, and every little knot of pain slowly melts under her fingers, leaving behind only a faint, numb pulse and renewed warmth. Her touch is firm and focused, but gentle, almost like a caress, and it doesn’t stop at your neck: she carefully massages your trapezii and shoulder blades, and gradually she moves down to work all over your back, easing the tense exhaustion in your spine. It’s lovely, and it feels like only now you realize how much you needed this, even if your neck hadn’t played such a nasty trick on you. You’ve never felt her hands so close on your skin, caressing you so gently, and you’d love to turn around and feel them over all the rest of you, enjoy the sight of her over you, working you over like that, your body held between her legs. Your broken think pan and other parts of your body are definitely enjoying this intimacy way too much, but at the same time, the fact that nothing is actually happening outside of your mind, the fact that all she’s doing is simply taking care of you, fills you with a warmth that it’s equal parts arousing and comforting. She makes you feel cherished, accepted, loved, and only she can make you feel this way, and this is precisely why you adore her and desire her so much. Of course you’d never dare take the initiative in any way: you’re too afraid to screw it all up, other than too exhausted and all bruised.

**> Eridan: see the obvious right now.**

Oh.

Bruised.

Bruised?

Oh crap. Oh crap, your back is covered in bruises. And scratches. And bite marks. That’s what she’s never seen before.

That must be what made her go “oh” earlier. There’s no way she didn’t notice. There’s no way she didn’t draw her own conclusions on all those signs.

Oooooooooh crap.

You stiffen, and as her touch brushes over a bruise on your side, you flinch inadvertently. She gives a little gasp and stiffens in turn.

“Sorry. Does it hurt?” she asks, and it’s just a shy, soft whisper. She sounds so vulnerable right then, and the lack of her usual fish puns only strengthens that impression. You swallow.

“No, it’s ok, Fef,” you reply, and your mouth suddenly feels so dry that you can’t help but whisper in turn, yet your paralysis turns to surprise when she runs the tips of her fingers shakingly over that same spot, just barely touching. 

Suddenly you have no idea what’s going on. The veins in your temples are pulsing fast and you’re still paralyzed by dread and embarrassment and something that feels suspiciously like an absurd, ridiculous form of shame, and her fingers lightly circle the bruise on your side, no more a massage but almost a real caress, shy and tentative and needy. You dare not move or open your eyes when you feel her shift, and her waves of hair caress your skin for one moment, making you shiver, just before her lips tenderly kiss your bruise, and suddenly your blood pusher is trying to shatter your ribcage. Why. What. What is she doing, why is she doing it, what is happening, what do you have to do, what do you have to be, how do you not screw this up? You can’t help but hold your breath and listen to her movements, as her fingers move up slowly, and you can tell by the light itch under your skin that she’s following the long trail of a claw scratch. Her lips follow the path of her fingers, planting quick, soft kisses, and you can’t help but shiver all over at her gentle ministrations. Her hand reaches your neck gills, still swollen and a little aching thanks to Sollux’s nibbling, and you can feel her breath flutter unsteadily on your skin, turning it into goosebumps, as if she wanted to say something but had no way to put it into words. You still dare not move, but you know your breathing is just as tense and unsteady as hers, and it must show. Then she kisses your bruised gills, and you can’t help but whimper softly, needing more of that delicious warmth she seeds under your skin, which she only takes as an invitation to snuggle against you and gently open her mouth on your skin, the tip of her tongue gingerly running along the tight, sensitive slits, soothing your residual pain. You can’t almost believe how good this feels and you whine and arch under her, only daring to open your eyes when she stops and you feel her shift over you. You open your eyes to find hers looking back at you, huge magenta eyes clouded and glistening, crowned by long curls of thick lashes, so intense her stare is enough to take your breath away. She reaches to kiss your earfins and cheekbones, and you try to twist your neck to meet her lips, but the awkward position and your healing neck do not help you, and you whimper in frustration. As if reading your movements, her hand slips under you, tugging at your shoulder as she lifts her weight off your hips, and you only have a short, feverish moment of residual worry and hesitation, deliriously hovering between no, you cannot do this, you don’t know what to do, you’ll rush this, you’ll ruin everything, and yes, you want this, you need this, you must do this, before finally following her lead and allowing her to help you turn around.

You’re lying on your back now, with her in front of you, and when she takes your mouth in a passionate kiss and sits back in your lap suddenly everything melts down to oh. God. Yes. Her tongue probes at your mouth and you welcome it eagerly, returning her same hunger and passion, and her hands roam over you, exploring and stroking your chest and arms, finding other scars to follow and tease gently. She's pressed against you plane to plane and she's shaking all over, and you realize distantly that there's no way she can't feel how aroused you are right now, and you don't care because she doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, and that's enough for you. You've never felt her like this, so powerful and demanding, and yet gentle and needy at the same time, and it's driving you mad. You could swear she even smells different now, she smells like promise and need and lust and want, and probably it's just mating pheromones kicking in, but you don't care either way. Suddenly the simple idea of what is happening hits you with its full force, leaving you confused and overwhelmed.

"Fef," you mumble on her lips, and she rewards you with a nibble. "Fef, wait, what… why?”

She caresses your face, her huge eyes glazed over.

"Because I want to," she whispers in a way that makes you shiver all over, and flushes deep magenta. Good cod how can she be so adorable and arousing at the same time. "I've never been so sure in my whole life. And you? Do you want me?"

Holy mother of fuck if you don't take off your pants like right now you swear you're going to tear them through or something.

"Fuck yes, Fef," you can barely whisper before meeting her lips again.


	2. > Eridan: Surrender.

**> Eridan: surrender.**

Suddenly you feel like you’re flying. You feel like you’re weightless, swept away like seaweed, drunk out of your mind with her, her lips, her touch, her smell, her everything. You just need to fill your palms with her, carve her memory in your mind through your touch. Your hands move on their own accord, following her curves through the silky fabric of her clothes, gingerly hiking up the hem of her skirt to caress her thighs, and when she breaks the kiss, trying to sit up, your first reaction is to wrap your arms around her shoulders to bring her back down.

"No, come here," you whisper, showering her face with kisses. She squirms and giggles at that, and it sounds like pearls of glass.

"I have to take this off, silly," she says, tugging at her shirt, her earfins softly fluttering in excitement. You let her sit up and help her out of her shirt and skirt with shaking hands, eager like a lover, yet careful and adoring like a worshipper, because this is what you are, you realize now, she is your goddess, your empress, your entire world, and everything you want is to serve her and please her, and this is precisely how it was meant to be all along. You take a moment to drink in the sight of her in just her underwear, all pastel teal and cute little pink octopi and tiny black bows and lace, just a moment before eagerly bringing her back down with you in a kiss. It takes you a few tries to get her bra open and slip it down her arms, and soon her skin flows smooth and silky like the finest sand under your fingers, colder than yours, and yet so alive, so perfect to you. Your hands eagerly cup and squeeze her breasts, curiously rubbing her hardened nipples, and you know it's stupid and cheesy but it really feels like they were made to fit your hand, because you just know you couldn't do it like this if it were Vriska's skinny chest, or Aradia's voluptuos curves. She squirms and shivers so delightfully in your arms, and your hands slide down to squeeze at her butt, thumbs tracing the hem of her panties, hesitating to ask for more, but then she takes you by surprise, breaking the kiss and hiding her face in the crook of your neck to softly kiss at your gills. You moan, holding her close and shivering all over, and her kisses move down on your chest, following the trails of scratches and bruises, her fingers teasing and pulling. You need to stop her, some part of you wants to stop her and pull her back up because she is your empress, and it should be you worshipping her and taking care of her, but it just feels so good that everything you do is hold her, caressing her breasts and the gills on her sides, and let her have her way with you. You whine when her fingers trace your side gills and her mouth reaches your abdomen, your hips bucking up in an instinct, and her eyes dart down to the very visible swell in your pants, making you flush at her curious little smile. The predatory light in her eyes as she looks up at you is more than enough to make you shiver, then her hand slides down from your side gills to land exactly there where you want it, cupping your bulge through the clothing.

"Oh fuck," you mutter before you can help yourself, shuddering and pressing into her hand as she rubs at your length experimentally, but soon you go stiff and flinch as the friction of clothing turns more painful than pleasurable. The look she gives you is almost inappropriately sweet.

"Aw, you have it bad," she whispers, making you flush, and you help her as she fumbles with your belt to get your pants open. Her hand arches to slip under the hem of your shorts, and as soon as the pressure of clothing releases, your bulge uncoils out, flushed a deep shade of purple and slick with your fluids. You gasp as her fingers wrap around your length, her touch curious and uncertain but definitely eager, and your bulge curls around her wrist, your hips bucking, longing for more contact. She squeezes and rubs at the sensitive ridges, rolling her thumb over the nubs on the tip and you wonder where did she learn that because it feels so fucking good, because you're pretty sure Sollux and her didn't really do much together and his bulge is pretty different from a seadweller's in any case, and god, you want to touch her, you need to touch her, to feel all of her, and you can't do much from this position and it's frustrating and yet so delightful to have her work you over like that.

"Fef, wait," you mumble, sinking your hands into her hair to pull weakly at her shoulders. "Here. Come here."

She lets you draw her close, curling up over you, and the wetness in her hand against your shoulder makes you shiver.

"Not good?" she asks, a perplexed look on her face. You can just feel the stupidest grin forming on your face.

"Oh no. Very good," you reply, showering her face with kisses. "Even too much. You just feel too much fuckin' good, you know? You're just so damn fuckin' perfect, Fef."

You caress her, running your hands over the curves of her waist, hips and thighs, and you gulp as you hesitantly hook your thumbs in the straps of her panties, wanting to ask her permission, if she feels like it's alright to do this, if she feels ready, if she trusts you to do this right. She shivers and pulls at your hands, not to take them away but to help you finish undressing her, and you know she doesn't need you to ask with words. She already trusts you, and this certainty fills you with both tenderness and desire. You move her gently to the side and roll her panties down her legs and off, and she helps you out of your pants next.

And now, there you are. You look at her, drinking in that sight as if you couldn't really believe in it, which is not too far from the truth. Your matesprit, your childhood friend, your empress, lying down by your side, completely exposed to your eager gaze, all lean muscle and soft, subtle curves, her small, tender breasts rising up and down at her deep breathing, a pensive smile on her lips, and oh dear god those eyes, those big, blinding, piercing eyes. You've been naked in front of each other before, but always in neutral situations. You've never seen her bulge before, for one, leaving aside that one time you were taking a shower together at your hive and you saw her draw it out to wash herself, but then again, there was nothing sexual about such a mundane gesture. Now her bulge is exposed and erect in arousal, rather slender and petite, as is common in females, flushed the same rich shade of magenta as her eyes. You lick your dry lips, and you'd like to say something, but you really can't make your mind function right now. She holds out her arms to you, smiling encouragingly, and you follow her lead, kneeling between her legs as she lies on her back. You swallow, and looking down you can see the tender slit of her nook, wet with the faint fuchsia sheen of her fluids. You caress her thighs with shaking hands, feeling a tight tension in her muscles, a mix of eagerness, anxiety and hesitation, the same emotions currently trapping you. You want to touch her so bad, you want to do that thing you always fantasize about where you sink your face between her legs and pleasure her until you make her come into your mouth, that kind of thing that gets you off like there's no tomorrow but you worry she'd find it disgusting or unsettling, what with your fangs and all, and you want to take her, right here and now. And yet, you cannot move. She reaches to caress your face, a knowing smile on her lips.

"What is it?" she asks. You take a couple of breaths, and your eyes spontaneously dart to her scar and yours.

You don't deserve this. This is everything you should say, and you know it. You don't deserve to touch her, to kiss her, to see her like that, eager and breathless just like you, to have her so exposed and trusting in your arms. You don't deserve her to forgive you, let alone love you or want you or let you serve her like you were fucking hatched to. You try to say it, but you can't. You can't because despite everything, you know she loves you, she wants you and you have no right to decide over her feelings. Everything you can do is accept her love and her choice and try to be worthy of both, even if you can't change the past.

"Fef, are you really... really sure you..." Your voice comes out much more breathy and shaking than you mean it to, and you have to clear your throat. "I mean, we can... we can do somethin' else, or we can just... cuddle a little if you prefer. We don't have to..."

She lets out a low, soft giggle, sort of amused and sort of surprised and sort of tender. She takes your hands, currently brushing the inside of her thighs, and squeezes them.

"What are you babbling on about? Have I told you to stop?" she says, and you flush in embarrassment. "I'm fine, silly. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want this... and you wouldn't either. Come here."

She pulls at your hands to draw you closer, and you can't help but following her lead, lying down over her. You hesitate, swallowing as she wraps her arms around your shoulders, her legs brushing your hips. For a moment, for just a moment you're reminded of your first time with Sollux, and it feels so odd to realize how similar and yet how completely different this is. This time you know what to do, you know what to expect, but she does not. You don't mind going rough with Sollux, as long as you're sure you're not crossing a line and he enjoys it, but with Feferi it's completely different. Hurting her is not an option, not if you can help it. You shift slightly on a side so as to avoid resting all your weight on her, and slip your hand between the two of you, to rub at her bulge, carefully watching out for any signs of discomfort on her face, and she closes her eyes for a moment, the little muscle swiftly wrapping around your fingers. You brush against the tiny ridges at the base, making her shiver, then slip further down to the tender lips of her entrance to push a finger in, carefully so as not to risk hurting her with claws. She gasps, spreading her legs a little more to welcome your touch, and you bite your lip because she feels so amazing, so perfectly wet and tight and eager. You realize she already knows how to tilt her hips just the right way, so much that you wonder if she's used to do this alone, and you like that thought immensely, the thought of her lying in her bed or in the bathtub and fingering herself, and you almost want to ask her, but you worry about making her uncomfortable or what she'd think of you. She whines needily, her hips bucking, as you draw your finger out, and you only take that as an invitation to give her a little more, slipping two of them in. She arches at that, moaning through her fangs and the sound burns straight into your blood, you want to hear it again, you want to hear more, you want to be inside of her so desperately. You feel lightheaded as she guides your fingers out with a shudder, leading you to lie down completely over her again, and you can't help but stare curiously at your wet fingers, coated in a slick layer of faint fuchsia.

"Um, Fef, I think... we're goin' to need a towel or something," you say, awkwardly cleaning your fingers on yourself, "or we're goin' to make a mess in here."

Feferi gives you a surprised look, as if it takes her a moment to get what you're talking about.

"Oh! Sure. Second drawer there," she says, gesturing towards her nightstand. You lean on a side to open said drawer, and you find what looks like an old bath towel, with a faded print of moons and algae. It sure has seen better days and it looks like it's been heavily washed a lot of times. She arches to help you slide the towel under her, and soon you're wrapping her in your arms once again, kissing her softly as you guide your bulge to her entrance. You press in slowly, gently, wanting to give her all the time she needs to adjust, and as you first enter her, it takes your breath away. She feels tight, much tighter than what Sollux was, and not as suffocatingly hot, yet so tender and welcoming and delightfully wet. She stiffens under you, inhaling sharply, and you stop, breaking the kiss to give her a worried look. She looks more uncomfortable than in pain, her deep, beautiful eyes glazed over under a furrowed brow, and your worry sweetens as her lips curl up in a smile and she nods at you, tightening her legs around your hips to guide you further in. She's much more relaxed now and you have to bite your lip as you carefully slide all the way in, all of your body ringing with heat as she welcomes you, slick and silken-smooth and all wrapped tight around you. Under you she gasps and shudders, her muscles softly clenching around your length, like a caress, like an invitation, and it finally sinks in that yes, this is it, you're really there, with her, inside of her, finally hers, completely hers, just like it was meant to be all along. You move into her, and you try your best to stay focused and be gentle at first, but the way she shakes and whimpers and her hips roll back at you eagerly, her heels pulling you closer, spurring your rhythm, all of it is just so damn fucking irresistible, and soon you're taking her hard and fast, muffling her breathless moans into a kiss. She's holding onto you as if she needed you to breathe, clawing at your back and pulling at your hair, and she's clenching tight, so wonderfully tight, the tip of her small bulge frantically curling around the base of yours, as if trying to feel all that she could, and god, good god, the sound of her voice, shaking and breathless and broken and shallow, not nearly as loud as Sollux can get just to piss you off, yet just so perfect, so close, dripping with need. When you give a harder snap of your hips with a little growl, she arches and gasps, throwing her head back, and the sight of her like that, eyes half closed in ecstasy, her lips trembling, is enough to take your breath away.

"Eri," she whispers breathlessly, and your eyes roll back at that, and you have to clench your teeth and slow down a little because only now you fully realize how close you are, and you want to bring her to satisfaction first, you need to desperately. You map her skin with kisses, her lips, her eyes, her cheekbones, her gills, the scar between her breasts, her hands, the crook of her elbows, as if you couldn't get enough of her, as if nothing would ever be enough to really show her how much you need and treasure her, all of her.

"Fef," you whisper between kisses, "Fef, love, darlin', princess... fuck, you feel so goddamn good, so perfect, so... please, talk to me, tell me how you feel, how you like it, how you want it..."

You're rambling, and you know it, and as you feel her hesitation, you think back on the times Sollux mocked you for how dirty mouthed and talkative you get during sex, and you worry you've made her uncomfortable, but then she smiles at you, her face flushed, and you feel like you're melting.

"I feel you," she whispers, hooking one hand on the back of your neck to draw you closer, showering your face with quick, breathless kisses. "I love it, I've never felt like this before... please, don't stop now, I need..."

She gasps and her eyes screw shut as she goes stiff under you, her swollen globes clamping down hard on your length, and you don't need her to finish the sentence.

"Everything, everything you want," you mumble before taking her mouth in a fierce kiss, and you arch slightly to slip your hand between the two of you and rub at her bulge with your fingers. She whimpers, her hips bucking up eagerly, and as you pick up speed again, it only takes her a few more thrusts before she comes with a loud gasp, her release spilling between the two of you, and you follow right away. For one moment, for just one moment nothing exists but the tight feeling of her body surrendering and the raw, burning heat running through you like lightning, then it all pieces back together, and you find yourself panting and shaking over her. She smiles at you, completely spent and breathless, and you kiss her softly, before carefully sliding out of her on wobbling knees and falling limp by her side on the bed. You cringe a little as she draws you closer, seemingly uncaring about the mess you're lying into.

"Ugh, Fef, I'm a mess," you grumble, reluctantly letting her snuggle against you.

"Oh, shut up, grumpy gills," she says, dropping a few kisses on your chest. "So am I, and I don't care."

You look down, and, well, she's right. There's magenta pretty much everywhere, which you can only hope must mean it was a rather pleasant experience, maybe? You have no idea if there's an actual correlation or if it's just a myth, but it makes you flush all the same. You notice how her colour turns a warm shade of plum over your groin and her thighs, and it fills you with both pride and tenderness. It’s really a beautiful colour.

"How are you?" she asks in a whisper, not looking up at you. You shrug, sinking your hands in her hair to play with it.

"I should be askin' you," you reply. She pulls away a little to give you a puzzled look. You clear up your throat, hesitating to use your words. "I didn't... hurt you, did I?"

She finally seems to get what you're going for and giggles, giving you an amused smile.

"No, don't worry. You thought I was made of glass or something? No, it was just... new, I guess. Took some getting used to. What about you instead? How is your neck?" She furrows her brow, slipping her hand behind your head to rub at your stiff muscles. "I know it wasn't probably... well, very smart to get this kind of ideas today of all days."

She blushes, and you smile at her encouragingly.

"God, Fef, you're free to get this kind of ideas any time you want. Really, it's worth a stiff neck and then some." You caress her face and she smiles back at you, reassured. "But really, you shouldn't worry. It's still a bit stiff, but there's no pain."

"Ok then," she says, and her smile turns pensive as her fingers lightly caress your chest and shoulders. "And what about... all the rest?"

It takes you a moment to get what she's referring to, until her fingers trace a long claw scratch on your forearm, doubtlessly Sollux's work. You blush suddenly and look away, shivering at the memory of the way her touch on you changed after the massage.

"Oh," you only manage. She takes her hand away abruptly, starting to fidget. When she speaks, she's smiling but you can hear the nervousness in her voice.

"I'm sorry, I... I know it's not any of my business, really, and I know I can be... testy at times so it's ok if you didn't want to tell me." You cringe: you should have thought she would read your clumsy attempts at being discreet as trying to wall her out, since that's what you used to do when you were moirails, but you do not interrupt her. "It's just that... well... what you guys are up to has been pretty much obvious from a while, that's the thing."

You groan, rubbing at your brow.

"I know, damn. I know, it's just... I don't even know what I was worried about. I had no idea how you would react, what you would think of me." You hesitantly turn to her, and noticing her surprised stare, you manage a crooked smile. "Yeah, I'm afraid I'm still the biggest drama machine in the whole universe, sorry."

"Stop it, now," she says, squeezing your hand. "Why should I think badly of you or anything for that? I'm... happy, for you two, if anything. I remember how important it's always been to you to have a kismesis. I just need to know... are you happy like this? With me, and him? Do you think this could really work?"

She sits up to clean herself with the rumpled towel, and you get distracted for a moment by how beautiful she looks right then, completely exposed and relaxed, her hair flowing everywhere, her small breasts perched up high on her chest. You know what she's asking of you, but how do you answer that? It's complicated. Yes, you have filled both your concupiscent quadrants, and some time ago you'd have thought that hey, now it's done, it will be ok. But it's different now, and you know it's not that simple. How can you be wholly honest without risking to push her away?

"Fef, we already talked about this," you start, sitting up to clean yourself in turn. She puts a hand up to interrupt you.

"Eridan, I don't need you to tell me what I want to hear. That was then, this is now. I need to know what you think about it now that you've had some time to... to actually live it. If you're repressing something, if something I do or he does is hurting you, I need to know. I don't expect it to be easy: it took me and Aradia some time to adjust to... things, but..."

She hesitates, lowering her gaze, and you clench your teeth, and then, right then, you know what to say, and you spit it out.

"I don't think he deserves you."

She looks at you with widened, shocked eyes, and you have to escape her gaze, but you don't stop. You keep talking, concentrating on cleaning yourself, your voice slightly shaking. You need to get it out.

"I don't even think I deserve you, either, for that matter. But I think I know now that this is not the point. You're not a... thin' to be earned. You're a person, a wonderful person, and I can't choose for you." You drop the dirty towel and draw your knees to your chest, shaking your head, still without looking at her. "I love you, Fef, I've loved you all my life, and I'm happy and grateful if you love me back and if you wanna let me try and make you happy. Sol, I still think he is an unsufferable prick who has no idea how to treat a lady, but... I know he loves you, he really does. And if you love him back, as long as you still want me, well... I'm ok with it. So... yes, Fef. I think we could really make this work."

Hesitantly you raise your head to look at her, and you have the time to see the smile on her lips and her glistening eyes before she pulls you in a tight hug. You hug her back, planting a few kisses on her hair. She feels so soft and beautiful, pressed tight against you, smelling like sweat and sex and something sweet that you can't quite point out, probably just her perfume. Yet it feels more comforting than erotic to you.

"I love you," she whispers. "And it's not going to be easy, but we're going to make it work, all of us. One day at a time, ok?"

"One day at a time," you say. "And I'm not sayin' it's gonna be easy, Fef. I still think Sol is an asshole. I'm sayin' I'm gonna keep him in line, and if he ever hurts you, I'm gonna make him pay. But he's my kismesis, we're supposed to be terrible to each other."

She chuckles and pulls away slightly to look at you, curiously tracing a bite mark on your shoulder, which makes you flush.

"Yeah, well, I noticed," she says. "Just... don't make me worry, ok? If I have to auspistice between the two of you it's going to become even weirder than now."

"Yeah, quite..." You chuckle nervously. "Um... I didn't freak you out, did I? I mean... with the scars and all. I can assure you don't have to worry, we know our limits."

You're surprised as she flushes deep magenta and looks away.

"Um, no! No, it's ok. I wasn't worried, I remember the bruises Vriska used to leave you so I figured it was... how it worked for you. I was just a little surprised, but I was really... happy for you two, that's all. And... well, I really like taking care of you, Eridan. I know it sounds stupid, but the more I looked at you, the more I just wanted to kiss it all better."

This time it's your turn to flush hard. You draw her close again, hiding your face in the crook of her neck.

"It's not stupid, Fef. It's beautiful," you say. "You can do it anytime you want."

You drop a warm, soft kiss on her neck, and she shivers in your arms. When she turns to you to kiss your lips, you know it isn't from the cold.


	3. > Eridan: Sleep.

**> Eridan: sleep.**

Oh no, that's really out of the question. You can't go to sleep. Not yet. 

You keep snuggling under the covers when it gets cold, then kicking them aside when you need freedom of movement. It's like you can't keep away from her. The second time you take her, she's over you and you can finally see her in all of her glory, riding your hips, blinding and maddening like the goddess she is, your hands gripping her butt tight to press her down to you, following her rhythm. The third time you massage her feet, her ankles, you kiss them softly, going up on the inside of her legs until you spread them gently and she lets you pleasure her with your mouth. Her bulge is small enough that you can fit it in your mouth easily without risking to hurt her, and her taste reminds you of salt and butter, and of millions other things that don't really make sense and shouldn't probably feel so good. She shudders violently and keens when she spills into your mouth, your fingers pumping into her nook, and she surprises you as she pulls you up and leads you inside of her. She's still spasming and clenching and she's completely drenched from her climax and you've gotten so aroused that a couple of thrusts is all it takes for you to release inside of her once more. You worry about the taste in your mouth, but she kisses you hard all the same.

After the third time, the towel is in a terrible shape and you both are getting drowsy. She turns on the tv at a low volume, finding what looks like some sappy human movie with dolphins. She curls up against your chest and the pauses while speaking grow longer, until you start dozing off and you distantly think of the times you shared your recuperacoon with her when you were kids, and how romantic you thought it was when your feelings for her started turning red. You really were a dumb kid. Which doesn't mean you don't still think sleeping with her is romantic, because you'll be damned if it isn't.

At some point you turn around in the bed and gasp as you see Sollux lying down next to you with the stupidest grin on his face.

"Having fun, guys? No fair to start without me, though!" he says in mock indignation, then he takes off his shirt and you turn to look at Fef or maybe just scream your loudest "WTF" yet, but you do nothing of the sort. Because that is when you suddenly wake up, your blood pusher trying to shatter your ribcage. It is still only you and her, and the tv is now broadcasting some sort of financial news. You're covered in cold sweat, utterly shocked and... well... turned on as fuck. Some part of you apparently doesn't mind at all the perspective of a little quadrant mixing. Stupid sexy kismesis. You look nervously at the door. It looks closed, and it better stay that way. By your side, Feferi stirs, caressing your shoulder.

"Are you ok?" she mumbles in a sleepy voice. You clear up your throat and start to relax, turning around to cuddle her.

"The door is closed, right?" you say, not quite caring how stupid that sounds.

"Of course it is," she replies. "Sleep."

You sigh and close your eyes, trying to relax and especially NOT think about your weird dream. You must be tired enough because you doze off quickly, and when you feel Feferi stirring again, spontaneously you shift to cuddle her closer because, hey, sleeping by her side is pretty awesome and you can't imagine any good reason to avoid doing so.

"Where you goin'," you barely slur the words, quickly losing touch again.

"Um. Eri, I need the toilet."

It takes you a little to process the words and some more to fully wake up again.

"Oh! Sorry," you mumble, shifting to let her go, your blood pusher pounding again with the abrupt awakening. She doesn't seem to mind your little show of possessiveness as you hear her chuckle softly. You rub at your aching eyes, taking a moment to appreciate her naked figure as she stands up. She seems to be searching for something, although you can't quite figure out what she needs. For all you know, she's perfect just as she is.

"Aw... I can't find my things. Can I use your shirt?" she says, slipping the garment anyway over her head without waiting for your reply.

Oh.

Crap.

You can't even begin to express your feelings as she turns around. Your shirt looks long and baggy on her, barely covering her hips, and your sign. She's wearing your sign. As if she were yours - as if you were hers, actually. It's like you waited all your life to see her like this and you didn't even know. You gulp.

"Yes," you reply, much more shakily than you mean to, but she doesn't seem to notice. You follow her with your gaze as she goes to the door, without losing the slightest movement and flow of her curves under the clothing, then you close your eyes as she exits, trying to relax again. You relive the last few hours in your head, then the last few days, then all that happened when you started living on this new planet, and you can't almost believe this is really happening to you of all people. For the first time, you feel complete and ready to face what's ahead, whatever that is.

You're almost dozing off again when you hear the door open and spontaneously you lift your head, thinking it's Feferi coming back.

And instead it's Sollux. For real this time.

"Hey FF..." he manages to say before freezing with his hand on the door handle and an unreadable expression behind his stupid glasses, while you gasp and scramble to cover yourself even knowing how stupid that is, because what kind of idea is that, really, as if your naked body wasn't something your kismesis sees regularly?

He just looks at you for a few moments, opening and closing his mouth as if he couldn't figure out what to say, then a crooked smile crawls on his face.

"You know what, see you at breakfast," he says, then he closes the door and disappears once more.

Holy.

Shit.

You groan in frustration, rubbing at your eyes. The nerve of that guy. What possessed him to just go and enter Feferi's room like that? He looked genuinely surprised so you doubt this was an elaborate plan. Sollux has... well, many qualities, to use his words, but he doesn't do subtle or sneaky. He doesn't even care about subtle or sneaky, for that matter. He probably just heard the tv and assumed each of you was sleeping in their own room. You doubt he would have entered had he known what you and Feferi were up to for a good part of the night, since you know he wouldn't want to upset her, but on the other hand, now he knows for sure.

Damn. Now what do you have to do? Do you get up and go to speak to him? To say what? Do you just go and try to kick his ass hoping he still wants you to? What if Feferi comes back and doesn't find you? Damn again. You tumble around the bed a bit without finding closure, and when shortly Feferi comes back, she finds you curled up into a ball at the center of the bed. She climbs on, curling up behind you, her little breasts pressed against your back.

"What is it?" she whispers against your neck, and you suppose your grumpy expression is not leaving much to imagination. You just shrug and grumble something in reply. How do you talk about this? What is there to talk about, actually? You don't even know what's bothering you exactly (apart from Sollux's very existance, but that's normal). She won't be discouraged by your attitude anyway and wraps her arms around your waist, snuggling close to you.

"Glub?" she says, her breathing cold on your neck. "Glub glub?"

You almost want to smile. She used to do this all the time when you were kids, and it reminds you of a time when you didn't need words with her - before words stopped working altogether.

"Glub glub?" she repeats, poking at your shoulder, and she drops a few light kisses on your neck. Your earfin flutters softly in response.

"Glub," you finally say with a half a smile.

"Glub glub!" she says, sounding exceptionally amused by your little game, and pulls at your shoulder. You chuckle and comply, turning around to hug her and deliver a way too long string of glubs mixed with kisses on her neck. She giggles and squirms, and you take the perfect opportunity to tickle her sides, making her jump.

You feel terribly silly, and you don't give a shit.


	4. > Eridan: Face Your Dumb Landdweller Kismesis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The infamous bicoloured Nutella -the Thing That Started It All- makes an appearance in this chapter!

**> Eridan: spend all day snuggling with Feferi in bed.**

That's a great idea, but apparently you're not allowed to, since Feferi has plans with Kanaya and leaves you early with a peck on the lips. You get up shortly after, finding your neck still pretty stiff and sore, but luckily functional. You tidy up the room a bit before getting dressed, hitting the bathroom and then venturing downstairs, wary of what you'll find. What you find is Aradia, reading the newspaper and sipping her tea with some rusks and that delicious bicoloured cream. You look at the jar longingly while waiting for coffee, before giving up on the pretense that you're totally not interested and top your favourite cookies with it. Hot damn this shit is so good. You're actually smiling at breakfast, you didn't even think it was possible. You clear your throat nervously and resume your best haughty highblood act when you catch Aradia staring at you.

"In a good mood, aren't we," she says, starting to tidy up her seat at the table. "Slept well?"

Suddenly you realize that there's no way Sollux hasn't told her what happened. They've been pretty close since they were kids, they probably tell each other anything. He probably would tell her even what he does with Feferi - or not. No, probably not, he's still too insecure about that whole arrangement. But this, well, this is mostly about you and only tangentially about Feferi, and you're fair game to your kismesis. You freeze, flushing.

"It's just this cream," you say, trying your best to look nonchalant, and probably looking all kinds of suspicious. "It's really good."

"That it is," she says, washing her dishes. "Do you mind if I go shower first? I have to go see Tavros and I'm in a bit of a hurry."

You're surprised, but you shrug anyway, doing your best to avoid looking at her.

"No problem, I'll have a look at the newspaper," you say, topping another biscuit with delicious cream and faking a curious look at the main titles. In the meanwhile, Aradia just finishes washing her cup and goes upstairs without any other comment.

And that’s pretty much it. You’re sure she knows, she just doesn’t give a damn about it.

Ok, this is the last thing your past self would ever expect you to say, but you like this girl more and more each day.

You go on with your breakfast and with the newspaper distracting you, you end up eating much more of the delicious bicoloured cream than what is probably advisable. You really hope the consorts ended up liking this as much as you do and thus started producing it, because you do not want to think of what will happen if this ends and you're out of grist to alchemize it. As soon as Aradia frees up the bathroom, you go take a shower and give your hair a much deserved restyling. You frown, noticing your roots are starting to show under your purple streak. Soon it'll be time to dye it again.

As you leave the bathroom, you recognize the mix of music and sound effects from downstairs. It's that dumb starship shooter Sollux keeps kicking your ass over. He must be awake. You gulp.

**> Eridan: face your dumb landdweller kismesis.**

Ok, this is it. There's no delaying it anymore. You clench your fists a couple of times and then go downstairs to confront the uncultured oinkbeast that doesn't apparently think it's a clever procedure to knock before opening a door.

You find said metaphorical oinkbeast sprawled on the living room couch in his pajamas -consisting of a worn pair of pants and a baggy t-shirt with a washed out cartoony bee on the front and a couple of holes on the sleeves, holy shit is he ridiculous-, controller in hand, apparently not making a killing at the aforementioned starship shooter, which is strange. You don't think you've seen this level yet, so maybe he's just trying it out now.

"So, um... playin' a new level, right?"

And with that you're off to a brilliant start. Good job, Ampora. Sollux smirks, without taking his eyes off the tv, and you cringe.

"Nothing gets under your radar, I see. Slept well?"

You clear your throat, flushing, and look away.

"Yeah, well, I think I needed to talk to you about that," you say, your voice turning a much higher pitch than what you're comfortable with.

"Really," he says, drawing out the vowels, and you swear you can _hear_ the eyeroll, although you don't see it through his glasses. Ok, you're on a roll now, and you can't turn back anymore: you might as well blurt it out. You clear your throat again, lick your dry lips, fidget with your hair, and no, you're most definitely not getting nervous about this. Nope. Not at all. Not even a little bit.

"Well, the thing is... the thing that you... um. Yesterday, I mean, when you... well. It's not like... I mean, the thing that you saw. It's just that..."

Holy shit there is no way in paradox space for this to sound anything like 'just blurting it out', at all, not even in the weirdest of alternate timelines, really. Sollux snorts at your babbling, then just pauses the game, turning only then to look at you, and you gulp.

"Okay ED, listen up: I don't give a shit. No really, I mean it. I. Don't. Give. A. Shit. Got it?" He purposefully speaks too slowly, stressing every word with overdramatic hand quotes, and you just stare at him dumbfounded. Wait. Wait a sec. What? Really? Sollux points two thumbs at himself with a grin that you can't quite tell if it's actually bitter or just snarky. "I mean, have you looked at me recently? Do you think I'm in any condition to complain or to act like whatever FF wants to do with you is any of my fucking business? Because news flash, fishdick: it's not, and that's been part of the deal right from the start. Really, ED, I pretty much don't give a damn about it and don't even want to know as long as she's happy. And about that..." The grin disappears and a shiver rolls down your spine as he stands up and gets closer. When he speaks, it's just a whisper, but it couldn't be clearer to you. "You'd better treat that woman like a fucking princess, because this is what she is. And if I ever find out that you're being an asshole to her and you're messing this up, I'm going to make you pay, and it's not going to be pretty. Got it?"

You have no idea how he manages to look threatening in frumpy pajamas, but he does. Maybe it's his firm stance and impenetrable expression, or maybe it's just how he seems to know what you're thinking better than you do and it's downright scary sometimes. You straighten your shoulders and hold his stare, crossing your arms on your chest. You know perfectly well where he's coming from.

"The same goes for me, Sol," you say, nodding. "So we have a deal."

He nods back at you, and for a moment he almost seems impressed by your honesty, a short ripple of surprise in his eyebrows, but he quickly resumes his usual, vaguely bored, vaguely annoyed (and infinitely annoying) demeanor.

"Good. Glad we cleared that up," he says, and flops back down on the couch. "Now I can go back to practice how to kick your ass next time we play."

Your eyebrows shoot up for a moment. Wait wait wait. You never had any doubt that he beats you at this game out of sheer experience, since you're not that big of a lover of shoot 'em alls, but are you going to let him be that smug about it? Especially now, that it's clear that he's still getting the hang of this new level and does not have that advantage yet? Oh no, you don't think so. You place your hands on your hips.

"Next time? Why not play now, and see who's best?"

He pauses the game again and this time he actually looks impressed, cocking an eyebrow up at you.

"Oh, it's on now," he says, and tosses the other controller your way.


End file.
